This morning in meditation the mind so incredibly still. It’s there from nowhere, suddenly, if suddenly is without time. Previously, deep fluid breathing during morning stretches, continuing into the first part of the meditation.
Then it was back to the office after a week away for the school camp in Devon. Wading through emails, selecting the urgent ones to reply to first. After a while, remembered the Dragon Dictate system I set up before I left, so continued without typing. It’s still an odd experience, speaking to a computer instead of ‘operating’ it with the keyboard. I read yesterday that the new version of OSX, Mountain Lion, will have voice dictation built in. Mid morning we had a staff meeting, with all the foundation team in attendance, discussing the staff changes taking place this year.
The high winds of yesterday subsided leaving a fair and warm day. After lunch I was sat outside in the sun talking with a friend about the correct response, and some of the other responses, to the crisis in the world, ecologically, politically, religiously, seemingly every way. We talked at length about the perhaps-failed environmental movement. We concluded that we don’t know in the slightest what is really going on here, having explored various avenues over the last twenty years. Can this ‘not knowing’ lead to a new action? And how does true communication take place? It’s clear that this century will see huge changes, if not revolution. Saw another friend’s site online this afternoon discussing the overuse of the word ‘revolution’ where in fact it is hardly ever taking place. Both friends are in the process of writing books – The Birth of a River and The Order of Thought.
The Birth of a River:
This is the story of two unlikely companions travelling from Brittany to Britain in search of a mystical river. Armoran, a child of seven, has a special gift, he can communicate with nature like no other. Pursued and vulnerable, he turns to an old lighthouse keeper to help him carry out his mission.
In a world turned increasingly disconnected and destructive, this allegory sets the stage for a contemporary rural renaissance.
Birth of a River is a transforming novel about the wisdom of innocence, learning to listen to nature, and self-discovery.
The Order of Thought:
Why is it that despite all the outward technological advances of our civilisation, over the millennia we human beings have remained essentially brutal and callous, living in confusion, sorrow and fear?
Why is it that the various “solutions” to our pressing global problems — offered often by the “best of minds” — only seem to make matters worse?
Is it really inevitable that our future should just be more of the same — more exploitation, more war, more destruction, more suffering, more ideological conflicts, more disagreements, more confusion, more misunderstandings and power-struggles?
Is there really no way of overcoming the divisions between science and religion, the intellect and the emotions, the individual and the community, one human being and another, the world we inhabit and us?
Or, could it be that the single root of all our troubles we can find right where we are? Could it be that the source of our general incoherence lies within ourselves? Is it possible for our consciousness to change radically — not in some idealistic “New Age” sense, nor based on accumulated knowledge and prescribed dogmatic patterns from the past? Could we make room for creativity and intelligence? Could every one of us really make a difference?
Springwatch may be over (until Summerwatch then Autumnwatch) but this evening on BBC2 Chris Packham’s new series began: Secrets of Our Living Planet. ‘Science is the art of understanding truth and beauty.’ These days all I really want to watch on TV are nature programmes. The world of humans doesn’t interest me so much, at least not in TV form. Such impressive photography and new sights in episode one alone! Here’s some great footage of a variety of hummingbirds:
Today is Fathers Day in many countries. My father is no longer alive so today is a day to remember him. I wish he’d found his way, his correct response to the world. Here’s a picture of him with one of my brothers and I:
Happy Fathers Day!